It’s probably fair to say I have adventurous genes in me.  My mother attended school in the Himalayas, the daughter of a Scottish mother and a Welsh father who’d joined the Welsh Regiment in India.  My father had defected from Czechoslovakia in the 1950s to escape the communist regime, my parents meeting on the ski slopes of Vancouver.  It’s hardly surprising traveling has always been on my agenda – and volunteering in Papua New Guinea based on a square-rigged sailing ship was as far from the world I’d grown up in as I could imagine.